Popcorn and Welcome Rain
by HypotheticalEyeball
Summary: Kenma and Kuroo go to see a movie, and afterwards, Kenma can't help but think that their relationship reminds him of water.


Kenma glanced around the packed theatre, tightly clutching a bag of popcorn. He supposed he and Kuroo should have split up so that one of them could have secured seats while the other bought popcorn. As it was, only separate seats were left.

"C'mon." Kuroo grabbed Kenma's free hand, pulling him towards a seat at the back.

"But there aren't-"Kenma began.

"Hey, don't drop the popcorn!" Kuroo held up the bag that was slipping out of Kenma's grasp, catching it just before it hit the floor.

Kenma blushed sheepishly and looked away. Kuroo handed him the popcorn and took him the last few steps to the seat at the back. He sat down, smoothly pulling Kenma into his lap. Kenma's grip loosened in surprise, and Kuroo wrapped his arms around Kenma, saving their popcorn for the second time.

"Maybe I should hold it." Kuroo teased.

Kenma turned his head to glare at Kuroo, but ended up cross-eyed trying to do so in such close proximity. He let out a huff and faced the movie screen.

As the previews finished, he began to relax, forgetting any nervousness caused by their position. They did similar things all the time at their houses, it was hardly a stretch to be like this in public. By the time the movie had ended, Kenma was leaning into Kuroo as if it was the most natural thing in the world, and Kuroo was resting his chin on Kenma's head, arms around him and the popcorn bag empty on the floor.

People filed out of the crowded auditorium as the credits rolled, but neither Kuroo or Kenma moved a muscle. The music faded and the only sound was their quiet, relaxed breathing.

Sitting there felt right. They weren't doing anything, and Kenma should have felt bored, but he had no desire to pull out one of his video games. He just wanted to stay with Kuroo.

An employee interrupted their peaceful moment just as the screen went black.

"Excuse me, you do know the movie is over, right?"

"We do." Kuroo replied.

"Well, you're supposed to leave. We need to clean up for the next showing."

"I can't get up until you do." Kuroo whispered in Kenma's ear.

His breath tickled Kenma's neck, and Kenma shot up, flustered. Kuroo quickly followed suit.

Kenma latched onto Kuroo's arm, unable to exit quickly enough. He thought he could hear the employee chuckling as he and Kuroo left.

It wasn't until they had reached the bus stop that Kenma realized he and Kuroo were still holding hands. He contemplated letting go, but it felt warm, and he was innately drawn to the comfort it brought him. Kenma found himself thinking that his earlier embarrassment was silly. He didn't care what anybody else thought, so long as he was with Kuroo.

Kenma looked up at Kuroo, noticing a soft flush on Kuroo's cheeks. When Kuroo met his gaze, Kenma gave him a rare smile.

"Thank you."

Kuroo quirked an eyebrow, "For what?"

"For staying with me."

"I always have time for you."

"Good. Because I always want to be with you."

Kuroo's eyes widened, his face reddening. Kenma simply gazed up at him, unblinking. Kuroo cupped Kenma's face, running a gentle thumb across his cheek. He leaned down, resting his forehead on Kenma's.

"I love you, to." Kuroo breathed, the corner of his mouth quirking up as he acknowledged what Kenma had yet to realize.

That was when Kenma was hit by the full implications of his words and feelings. It was also when he noticed that he was completely okay with them. He was in love with Kuroo, and would follow that wherever it took him, because as long as he was with Kuroo, Kenma didn't care where the current brought them. Everything would work out. They would make sure it did.

Kenma reached his free hand up into Kuroo's hair. The world was still as they were surrounded by their bubble once more.

Maybe Kuroo had initiated it. Or maybe Kenma had. But no matter who was responsible, their lips were joined in a sweet kiss. It was soft and tentative, and didn't last long, but it was still enough to communicate everything left unsaid. As their lips parted, a bus pulled up to the stop, and they rushed to board before it left, neither letting on to how their heads were spinning, faces forced neutral, and hearts pounding.

* * *

Rain beat down on the roof in a soft hush. Kenma found himself having difficulty keeping his eyes open to continue his game. His eyelids drooped as he lost focus, and he decided to save and quit before he lost any progress.

Despite his fatigue, Kenma's mind would not quiet. He lay on his back, staring up at the ceiling. Points, levels, and strategies entered his thoughts only to be pushed aside by something he couldn't quite identify. It was thought that hadn't yet formed into something coherent, a feeling that centred around another.

Kenma's inability to grasp any idea left his mind feeling falsely empty, but as he focused on the sound of the rain, one which outdid the 8-bit soundtracks that accompanied many of his games, something more concrete came into view. A calm comprehension spread over him when he finally put a finger on it.

If Kenma was to choose an element to describe his relationship with Kuroo, it would be water. Whether solid, liquid, or refreshing mist, their flexibly flowing, fluidly evolving interaction reminded him unmistakably of water.

Originally, Kenma had sat in his own little bubble as life pulled him along. Then, somewhere along the line, he had hit a bump named Kuroo. This bump had entered his bubble, and changed the course of Kenma's life. The river split, and Kuroo guided the bubble in a new direction. He had opened up new possibilities, and as other bubbles appeared, Kenma no longer maintained such distance. He and Kuroo may not have combined bubbles with anyone else, but they went so close that the walls of the bubbles would touch, and a only a flat, glossy wall separated them. This was the case with the volleyball team.

There were waves to surf, and rapids to endure, because everything has its ups and downs. Even when it thundered, or glassy lakes froze over, Kenma wouldn't have it any other way. Anger, fear, sorrow, they were only a few among a myriad of human emotions. And human they were. Besides, each bubble in the white water represented an opportunity. Even at the bottom of a waterfall, there was a pool of serene reflection.

When things got too heated up, Kenma and Kuroo brought each other back to Earth like the rain that rattled against the windows and pounded down on Kenma's house with the persistence of drumbeats. Little by little, then all at once. It would finish with a rainbow, a colourful smile of relief and reassurance, because they liked to go with the flow. It wasn't hard to stay current, living in the moment, when they were constantly being pulled downstream.

Kuroo was a cool touch of liquid on Kenma's skin. His words washed away worries, the glass half full once more. In all honesty, he gave Kenma clarity, soothing and calming, though he required effort on Kenma's part. Not that Kenma minded. A relationship required two people to maintain. And maintain it he would.

Kenma would return favours and turn off the tap after brushing his teeth, for good things must not be wasted. He would relish long showers, even when they grew cold, and savour and appreciate his privileges.

Today Kenma and Kuroo had made welcome progress, and Kenma drifted off to sleep thinking that even if it rained ever day for the rest of their lives they would enjoy every moment of it together. He was ready to grab a bag of popcorn to sit back and watch it all unfold.

He wanted to curl up against Kuroo as the rain _pitter-pattered,_ but his blankets and warm memories, with the promise of more to come, were good enough for now.

* * *

This is just something I thought up a while back when I was bored. It got really cheesy towards the end, but I really wanted to use the movie seat thing and the watery puns. I hope you enjoyed it. Any comments or corrections are greatly appreciated.


End file.
